Haunted
by Silver-Eyed-Rukia
Summary: Adaar is still haunted by the incidents at Redcliffe castle, even after weeks have passed since then and for the first time since her nightmares started she doesn't have to face them down alone, not with Sera at her side. Adaar (female Qunari Inquisitor) x Sera.


**Haunted (Part I)  
**

by

_Silver-Eyed Rukia_

**Rated:** T

**Summary:** Adaar is still haunted by the incidents at Redcliffe castle, even after weeks have passed since then and for the first time since her nightmares started she doesn't have to face them down alone, not with Sera at her side.

**Pairing:** Adaar (female Qunari Inquisitor) x Sera

**Note:** This isn't beta-ed, so please ignore any mistakes. Or point them out and correct me, whatever you prefer.

* * *

_"Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer-both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams."_

* * *

The large, metal door closed with a thud that echoed loudly in the large, empty hall. Dead silence filled the air and was only broken as the spymaster starting pacing up and down in front of the hall's entrance, keeping a careful distance between it and herself. She eyed the object with such an intensity that one could think it may jump out of its hinges and start attacking her if she didn't. But everyone knew that it would turn into the gate of hell itself in due time. And that time was running out quickly.

Adaar's thoughts were clouded by hatred and fear, both emotions absent on her calm and collected expression that did her current state of mind no justice, and she unconsciously clenched and unclenched her fists as she eyed the doors with the same intensity as the redheaded archer. Dorian was mumbling away at the amulet as he had been for over good thirty minutes now and she hated the fact that she couldn't do anything to help him, finish the ritual faster. Because every damn minute that was ticking away meant that she would lose one of the dear friends she had found in the Inquisition.

Friends and her lover.

The warrior's throat hurt with suppressed tears and her teeth ground against each other as she pressed them together in a futile attempt of calming down. Cassandra was out there, face not faltering even after a year of imprisonment, head held high and eyes filled with pride as she had left the hall knowing that she would die protecting the only hope of never having to experience a future under the Elder One's rule. Accompanying her was a certain blonde elf, the same elf who was the reason for Adaar's restlessness.

She could deal with being sent forward in time. She could deal with realizing that if they failed to get back and return, they would perish under the assault of the Venatori and their leader. She could even deal with knowing that she was the very person that could undo all of this.

But losing Sera was a thought so frightening that it made her sick to her stomach, her skin clam with sweat and her mind chaotic save for the single thought of wanting to run out of the hall, grab her weapon and cut down anyone trying to hurt the archer. And she knew that the Tevinter mage standing a few feet behind her was the sole reason she didn't do exactly that.

The horned woman's hand shot to her sword's hilt as she started hearing the noises of fighting seeping through the huge doors and Adaar bit down on her lip, tasting blood as she bit down too hard, as she lowered her hand again, standing still even as the doors swung open and several demons and Venatori zealots and mages filled the hall.

Her blonde hair was messy and nearly completey soaked in bload, dirty strands of it clinging to her in pain contorted face. Her usually sharp and lively blue eyes were dead, all light gone from them as everything that remained was a look of terror, realization that she would die protecting what little hope she had left. Her extremeties were disgustingly twisted in inhuman angles and her clothes did little to catch the blood oozing from the gaping wounds all over her body. Sera's corpse was carelessly dropped to the ground by the Terror that had dragged her into the hall and just in that moment, the Vashoth lost it.

An excrutiatingly loud scream filled the air, thick with rage and pain, and it did little to convey the countless amounts of emotions that ran through Adaar upon the sight of her dead and mutilated lover.

Leliana's arrows pierced human and demon alike, her resolve never wavering as she receited chants to guide herself in her final moments, doing everything to stand her ground against an overwhelming force of enemies. Even as she heard the scream fill the air, even as an arrow penetrated her shoulder; she continued to fight. And when the enemy finally reached her, when the arm wrapped around her throat finally started strangling the last bit of life out of her, she knew she had fulfilled her duty as she watched the unknown Tevinter mage drag the Herald through the portal. And then Leliana allowed herself to drift off, fall into an everlasting sleep at the Maker's and the Divine's side.

* * *

The bright rays of the morning sun illuminated the room in a soft white glow in some areas, breaking into differently coloured jets of light in others as they fell through the painted windows of the Inquisitor's private chambers. Only one of the two people laying in the king sized bed was awake already and said person was currently busy admiring the woman next to her.

Sera's naked, sheet-covered body was resting close to that of her bed partner, stomach flat against the matress as she rested her chin in her hand, looking into the sleeping face of Adaar. The stark contrast between the white sheets and the black horns, the flaming red hair that was shaped into a mohawk whipping about lightly in the gentle breeze coming through the open window: all those little details that the archer loved observing when her lover was still asleep, when her face wasn't masked or void of expression like it was ever so often.

These calm moments were rare and Sera cherished them like a stolen treasure or a really delicious tart. The moments where the Inquisitor wasn't the leader of the Inquisition or the Herald of Andraste or a scary and tall Qunari warrior that could probably rip you limb from limb if she wanted to, but when she was nothing but her girlfriend, the honey-tongued, gentle giant that she fell in love with.

The rogue absentmindedly traced the long scar that travelled all the way from the Vashoth's left ear to her larynx with her left pointer finger, taking a mental note to ask her about it at one point. Sera's finger was just about to leave the scarred skin again when the owner stirred in her sleep and the archer grinned. She was just about to make a cheeky remark about Adaar being an unusual sleepyhead when her joyous expression turned into a frown as she noticed the distraught expression on the warrior's face. Unintelligible murmurs followed, accompanied by restless movements such as fluttering of the eyelids and twitching of the fingers. Those things alone were reason enough to make Sera feel uneasy but what really scared her shitless was the salty liquid leaking through the horned woman's closed eyes, staining the pillow beneath her head.

When Haven had been attacked and burned down, Adaar had faced the enemy head on, never flinching in the face of danger as she had burried them and nearly herself under a mountain slide. When she had fought her way through a blizzard for what felt like hours, nearly freezing to death in the process, she hadn't faltered. When they had reached Skyhold and received word of just how many people had died, she hadn't broken down. Not once, through all her trials, had she shed a single tear. Yet now, when she should feel safe and secure in her own bed with her lover by her side, she was shedding those very tears that Sera had never seen before on the Qunari's face.

* * *

If she had any guess as to what hell must feel like, then reliving the worst memories and nightmares for all eternity was what she would go with as an answer. Seeing those images, the reminiscences of the happenings at Redcliffe, was like torture: a neverending torment, over and over until she would break beneath its weight. She was caught between a state of awareness and deep slumber, awake enough to dream and asleep enough to be unable to wake up from her nightmares. It was agonizing, worse than any wound she had ever received before, because she could tend to a physical wound, but this? This was scarring her very soul.

Adaar could feel her own body react violenty to her mind's anguish, could feel moisture running down the sides of her face but she couldn't dry the tears, couldn't stop the shaking. Not until she woke up. And just in that moment, as if some higher presence had heard her desperate yet silent plea for release from her pain, she woke up.

A loud gasp escaped her mouth as she shot up into a sitting position, eyes darting around the well-lit room and her breath uncontrolled and frantic. Her body was already in overdrive while her mind was still hazy with sleep, the last remains of the nightmare tainting her ability to think clearly. A hand was wrapped around her left wrist softly and Adaar twitched violently in reflex, nearly falling out of bed in the motion. Her icy-blue eyes landed on the all too familiar face of the blonde elf, who was looking at her in worry as she helplessly tried to do _something_ to help her love calm down.

"Inky, you alright?"

The horned woman wrapped her long arms around Sera, completely engulfing the much smaller frame between them and pressed her close to her front as she burried her face into the rogue's shoulder, feeling the warmth of the naked skin against her own from the sweat cooled body. She breathed in the sweet scent that always seemed to linger on the elf's skin and felt her muscles relax as realization dawned on her. It had been a nightmare. Sera was alive and well, safe in her arms and she would make sure that would never change.

"You're scaring the piss out of me, luv", the archer's somewhat muffled voice exclaimed as Adaar losened her iron-grip around her, looking into those ever sharp blue eyes that she loved so much. She ran a hand over her face and dropped the other into her lap, taking a deep breath before settling back into a more comfortable sitting position.

"I'm sorry, I...had a nightmare." A moment of silence passed before the Vashoth raised her gaze to look at the elf, eyes filled with pain as she voiced the next few words. "I thought I had lost you again."

Sera knew what she meant and her worry turned into undirected anger.

"You made sure that bullshit future will never actually happen. No breach taking over the sky and no buildings floating around like in a shitty nightmare version of dreamland. And also no me dying from having this red stuff inside of me for like a year. I ain't dead nor am I gonna die, Inky. So wipe that pathetic look off your face or you will make _me_ cry and then I will kick your ass. Or stick your butt full of arrows."

Adaar couldn't help but laugh as she did just that. She pushed the memories to the back of her mind, hoping that they would stay there and placed one of her big hands on Sera's neck, gently pulling her in for a kiss. They parted minutes later as the kiss had turned from innocent to more intense and the warrior rested her forehead against that of her lover, smiling at the satisfied expression on the elf's face.

"Never going to die?"

"Never."

Silence.

"I could eat two nugs on a loaf of bread, let's go grab something to eat."

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**Annotations**: The quote is from **Bram Stoker**, it's not my own._  
_

* * *

This is somewhat of a side story to "May I have this dance?". If anyone remembers I mentioned Adaar having nightmares but I didn't want to build the story around that so I wrote this instead. It's a Two-Shot and the second part will contain the judgement of Alexius and how Adaar deals with everything.

**On an unrelated to this story note**: I am currently going through basic training for the German military (Also called German Armed Forces) so I am completely gone all week until late Friday night so I won't update as frequently anymore. I am trying to write something at least every other weekend but I can't make any promises. Until then, stay tuned for more.

**Phrase of the Day**

_Well, is it dark enough? Can you see me? Do you want me? Can you reach me?_

"My Skin" by Natalie Merchant_  
_

**If you liked it, please** **REVIEW**.

No flaming please.


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